


P.S. I forgot to hit send...

by Processpending



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Belly Kink, Belly Rubs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Frostpudding, Insecure Loki (Marvel), M/M, Stuffing, Weight Gain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-02-02
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:07:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22531447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Processpending/pseuds/Processpending
Summary: When a misunderstanding leads to Loki's feelings being hurt, Tom has to make it up to his god.
Relationships: Tom Hiddleston/Loki
Comments: 3
Kudos: 21





	P.S. I forgot to hit send...

**Author's Note:**

> It's Superbowl (for those of you who watch)  
> While this isn't *exactly* Superbowl themed, if you squint and wait for it to walk around the corner we can pretend the party they attend is for Superbowl.

Loki flinches the moment he hears the door open, a soft moan escaping his lips at the jolt of pain that flashes through his stomach at the sudden movement.

"Why aren’t you ready?" Tom's voice is low, an edge to it that sends ominous shivers through Loki. 

"Get dressed." Loki winces at the curt tone and command, Tom has never been so short before. The god struggles to stand, bracing one hand on the table the other goes to the underside of his heavy belly. It takes him three tries before he's finally up, each attempt made harder by the cold, watchful eyes of Tom as he leans against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. Loki can't help the whimper as he waddles across the kitchen, Tom's only reaction are raised eyebrows.

"Mm...my back hurts." His voice is low, plaintive. 

"I'm surprised it's not broken after this." Tom reaches out a hand, hefting the weight before callously letting it drop, the sudden shift causing Loki to stumble as tears of pain prick his eyes. He wraps his arms as far around his stomach as they'll go, protective against further abuse. 

However, that pain is nothing compared to the misery he feels at the image reflected in the mirror. After struggling to get his pants up his widening hips, Loki tugs the two flaps together, grateful that the newest notch cut into his belt still barely meets, masking the flaps that refuse to meet. The shirt that'd fit only a month ago threatens to burst apart with each breath. With fresh tears pricking his eyes Loki responds to the heavy sigh that comes down the hall, "Nuh...nothing fits." 

"Then magic it." 

"I can't." The words are a whisper as the tears spill over. Loki makes his reluctant way down the hall, all traces of his usual swagger absent with his eyes trained on the ground so he won't see the disappointment and disgust on Tom's face. He’d yet to be a disappointment to his human, but lately he’s felt that’s all he is anymore. Without a word, Tom opens the door and waits for Loki to make his way to the car, keys jangling as he locks up behind them. 

The ride to the restaurant is filled with a tense, awkward silence. Loki willing himself smaller, afraid to lift his eyes from the dash in fear of inciting Tom's anger. Loki hoped the worst of it was over, that once they got to the restaurant he could fade from Tom's attention. 

He was wrong. 

No sooner is the car parked than Tom's out the door, not bothering to say a word to the god beside him before he's impatiently waiting next to Loki's door. He'd thought rising from the kitchen chair had proved difficult, it was nothing compared to this. The low sports car’s bucket seat make it all the harder for Loki to push himself up, combined with his constricting clothing and the weight of Tom's gaze, Loki wishes he could just huddle in the car until dinner is over. One peek at Tom's face have the words withering in the god's mouth.

Embarrassment burns his cheeks as he follows Tom into the restaurant, the shame roaring so loudly in his ears he doesn't hear anything directed at them. Slipping into his seat at their table as quick as he can, he hardly notices who is near him. A nudge at his side has him raising his head, only to find one of Tom's friends, the one with three names...Loki racks his brain trying to remember as he seems genuinely glad to see him, though it quickly switches to concern. Loki mumbles reassurances, trying to ignore the bite of his pants into the tender underside of his stomach. 

The table falls into a hushed murmur once the food is served, plates filled with steak, heavy mashed potatoes and seasoned vegetables. Loki feels his stomach give a painful lurch at the first bite, he warily glances Tom, not wanting to attract too much attention but betting vomiting would be so much worse.

" _Eat_. I know you can." The words are low, a lover's murmur to anyone else at the table as the god feels color high on his cheeks, head tilting down.

So he does.

Loki fears he'll split with each bite brought to his lips. Bite by painful bite, he chokes down the plate, the cold water the only thing that keeps him going as it seems to numb his throbbing stomach. Tom doesn't acknowledge if he hears the middle buttons on Loki’s shirt give, calling on the the little magic he can muster, Loki throws up a glamour to make it look like his shirt is perfectly fine. Loki is taking sips of air by the time dessert comes, servers burdened by trays laden with cake, half-inch icing slathered on each piece. Loki honestly isn't sure how he'll get his piece down, but he doesn't dare glance at Tom, nor can he watch the servers any longer as they work their way through the tables. Instead he takes to counting the geometric pattern on the tablecloth, the numbers soothing. 

He's startled from his counting when he feels a hand at his elbow, tugging him upwards. Stifling a groan at the pain that flashes through his stomach at the movement, Loki tries to subtly brace himself with the table, barely managing to miss ramming his stomach into the edge.

Tom doesn’t lessen his grip on the god’s arm and Loki is so caught up in the contradicting thoughts of what he’s done to further anger Tom that they’re leaving early to the desperate hope that Tom’s touch is intentionally gentle, that he misses what Tom says. Nodding weakly at the words cast in his direction from the rest of the table, Loki focuses on maintaining the glamour, not caring that he’s waddling beside his human.

Luckily the distance to the front doors is short and Tom hands off the ticket to the valet before he turns to Loki, just the two of them in the cool night.

“Lokes.” Loki flinches at the word, not raising his gaze from the planters that line the walk. He can’t make out the tone, exasperated at best, but he chastises himself for the small hope that mocks him. The car is there moments later and Loki’s relieved that any further humiliation is postponed until they’re alone again. 

Loki waddles to the car, silently cursing the low sports model Tom insists on driving. More or less dropping himself into the car, Loki bites back a groan as the mass in his stomach lurches viciously. He doesn’t even attempt the seatbelt, the mere thought of something pressing into his aching belly being enough to split him open, deterring him. As he struggles to give his packed belly more room, knees knocking against the center console and door, his shuffling only serves to ram his overstuffed gut into the glovebox, his knuckles scraping against the compartment door as he tries to rub the abused spot in the tight space.

Loki keeps his head turned to the side for the duration of the trip, watching the city lights blur by and taper out the closer they get to home. 

Though the miles bring new thoughts and new worries. Where will he sleep? Tom surely doesn’t desire such a disappointment, let alone want to share his bed. Loki has just talked himself into the couch as a viable solution when Tom glides the car into the garage. As with the restaurant, Tom is out of the car in a flash, Loki bracing himself for the oncoming argument he’s sure awaits him...once he gets himself out of this damn car. He’s glaring at the small gap left between his belly and the dashboard when his door suddenly swings open, inciting a flinch.

“Loki.” The god would swear his name is a plea and so he turns, intent on facing this like he has everything else in life, with grim determination. Only to find Tom crouched next to the open door, nearly eye level with the god, he reaches out a hand and gently strokes it over the large swell, an unreadable expression in his eyes.

"Let's get you to bed." With those words he rises and holds out his hands, an offering Loki desperately needs. Unsure what game Tom is playing, Loki hesitantly takes his hands, knowing he's no hope of getting himself out of the car without making himself more of a fool.

Tom is stronger than he looks, wiry muscle tensing within the folds of his dress coat, he hauls the swollen god to his feet, steadying him as Loki tries to find his balance. Sweeping his arm out for Loki to go ahead, the god begins waddling toward the elevator, not caring that he looks heavily pregnant, one hand on his back the other pressed to the underside of his belly. He hears Tom behind him but still starts at the touch of the man’s hand on his back, guiding him through the rooms and down the hall to their bedroom.

"Drop the glamour." The command has none of the disgust that his earlier ones had, Loki doesn't dare hope that it's a plea, but allows himself to take it as suggestion. So he does. The glamour drops away, revealing his split shirt, only the buttons across his chest managing to keep their hold, though those threaten to give as well. Tom begins kneading the knotted muscles at the small of Loki's back, the god biting his lip to contain the moan that threatens to escape as he leans into the touch. Slowly, Tom’s large hands smooth themselves over Loki’s generous hips as he presses himself against the god’s back, hands cradling Loki’s heavy belly. They stay that way for a few moments, Tom gently swaying them in place before he moves to face Loki, hands trailing him as he goes, until he’s resting them on Loki’s hips once more.

"I'm sorry-" Tom apologizes, peering into Loki's bright green eyes when he's cut off.

"It's ok." Loki is quick to reassure, silently cursing himself for being so weak but unable to stand the thought of his human being disappointed with him.

"No." Pain flashes in the god's eyes as his gaze flickers down. Taking his chin gently in his hands, Tom draws Loki's gaze back. "It's not ok for me to snap at you. I never pressed send so there’s no way you would've known about the dinner and work has been a bloody nightmare...And I took it out on you. That's not ok. I'm sorry." Loki searches the human's eyes and sees nothing but love and regret there. Loki nods his acknowledgement, unsure what to say. Slipping his hands inside the open shirt, Tom caresses the bowed sides of Loki's stomach, gently pressing, Loki moaning in the back of his throat. 

Dropping to his knees, Tom mouths the sensitive skin of the god’s underbelly, leaving a belt of hickeys, Loki leans into his ministrations. His hands wander up over the broad curves, feather light touches that leave goosebumps in their wake across the taut flesh. Pulling back he barely has time to admire his work before Loki is whining low in his throat, bucking his hips for more.

"Aren't you a greedy thing." Tom smirks, rising. He trails his hands up as he goes. "Begging for more in that big belly of yours?" Tom teases, nuzzling the god's neck.

“My belly is _not_ big.” Loki pouts, a hint of his usual arrogance lacing his words. Raising his eyebrow, Tom leans close to Loki.

“Well then,” the man starts, pressing kisses along the god’s jaw, “Why don’t you get on all fours?” He can feel Loki tremble at the challenge dressed as a command. Tom backs away, propping himself up in bed he hardens at the sight before him, Loki cradling his stomach as though he's bringing it to the man, rather than being pulled along behind. A weight, a force, that cannot be stopped.

The man enjoys watching Loki crawl his way up the bed, the seductive sway to his hips hindered by his heavy stomach swaying with each move, nearly dragging along the bed. Propping his elbows on the bed, Tom offers Loki his hands. The god threads their fingers, using Tom's elbows as support as he takes Tom’s dripping length into him inch by inch. Tom's eyes travel over the god's body, his belly seeming bigger as Loki’s already bowed back arcs more with each thrust from him. 

Tom tilts his head up, capturing Loki's popped belly button in his mouth, gently sucking on the nub, flicking it with his tongue. Loki startles backward, Tom's grip the only thing keeping the god from slipping off the edge of the bed. Instead Loki sits in the middle of the bed, legs splayed, heavy belly resting on the covers between them. Tom can't help but grin at the sight of his god, one hand pressed to the side of his belly, his face a mixture of confusion and pleasure, frustration and discomfort as he tries to soothe the pain from the mass inside him suddenly shifting. Tom's hand looks small when it cups the swell, thumb tweaking the tender nub, causing Loki to buck his hips in a silent plea.

"My greedy little god, begging for more in that stuffed belly of yours."

"Thomas." Loki means it to be a demand, a _command_ , but it comes out breathy and whiny and the man almost likes it more. His god, so full he's near bursting and he's _begging_ for more. Tom licks his lips, enjoying the sight before him.

“I don’t know if I should, doesn’t look like anymore will fit.” He ducks, capturing the sensitive nub between his lips, sucking and grazing his teeth over it, Loki bucking and keening as waves of pleasurable pain wash over him. 

“I am your god, Thomas. _Worship_ _me._ ” Tom’s eyes flash at the command, a predatory grin as he leans back, beckoning for Loki to resume his position.

“All good gods work for their offerings.” Tom quirks an eyebrow but Loki likes games and so he crawls back up the man, taking his time. Tom digs his fingers into Loki’s plush hips, easing him back down onto his dripping cock, pleased when Loki squirms in his grip, his own hard cock trapped between his heavy belly and Tom’s toned stomach. He holds Loki steady, with each thrust a moan tears from Loki, growing louder when Tom reclaims his popped belly button. Tom’s trail up the pale curve of Loki’s belly, his throat bared with his head thrown back, gasping his name brings him over the edge. 

He swears he feels Loki’s belly swell with his come, filling his greedy god more as Loki spills across his chest, coating them both. Tom eases Loki onto the bed, slipping away Loki pouts briefly until Tom returns, a warm cloth in hand to clean him off. Loki hums under his ministrations, stretching his long fingers stroke his belly, lidded eyes watch Tom, taunting.

“I think you’ve had enough in that belly of yours for one night.” Tom murmurs, climbing into bed behind Loki, he presses his front along Loki’s back, arm draped over his hip, they fall asleep, Tom’s nimble fingers tracing lazy paths on his stomach.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope it was better than adequate. Is that a thing? I'm making that a thing.
> 
> Thoughts, comments, kudos, emojis, random outbursts all greatly appreciated!
> 
> I can't promise I'll be able to spin it into any sort of tale, but suggestions of what you'd like to see are always welcome!


End file.
